REHO: A Science Fiction Thriller (The Hegemon Wars) (21 page)

“It’s Jag,” Slater said.

“How do you know?” Ends asked.

Thursday answered for him. “Because there is only one person driving that boat.”

A burst of bullets plucked the outside of their boat. One made it through the hull and struck Slater’s leg.

Reho and Thursday returned fire, sending sparks along the speedboat’s hull. Jag closed in on them at such a speed that an impact was inevitable. A wave sent him up and down, jamming the side of his boat into the water taxi. Reho’s assault rifle clicked, signaling it was out of shells. All he had readily available was the grenade launcher, and that wouldn’t work here.

Then Jag did something none of them expected. His body flew through the air, landing atop Slater. Both hands were equipped with military knives like Reho’s. One planted into Slater’s arm as Thursday grabbed the other hand and rolled Jag off him.

Jag’s boat quickly fell behind as Ends pushed the water taxi toward their ship. Thursday had successful pulled Jag away, but the man’s strength was incredible, his senses heightened by the drugs he had snorted. Reho unsheathed his own knife and stabbed him in the base of his skull. Jag’s body twitched as he struggled to stand. Reho twisted his knife, sending Jag’s lifeless body plummeting to the floor.

“What a freaking psycho,” Thursday said.

Reho removed his blade. Slater grabbed Jag’s arm and looked at Reho.

“Help me toss this piece of murk overboard,” Slater said, blood seeping through his shirt.

Weapons, electrical devices
, and armor sat on the cafeteria table. Thursday and Reho had taken the power cells down to the engine room to replace the fading ones. Sola and Gibson hadn’t had any issues refueling the ship with bunker oil. Something about paying twice the standard price seemed to make people agreeable. That is, unless you were doing business with Jag. But nobody would be doing business with him anymore.

A forty-six inch monitor was connected to Gibson’s laptop. Toasters with bird-like wings flew across the screen as slices of toast zoomed past them. Its black background reminded Reho of the night sky. Had the invasion of alien ships appeared this way? It must have been just this strange when those who had survived the Blasts looked up and saw the first of the alien ships fly across the night sky: landing and conquering; building and waiting. The ships had left long ago, but not all of the aliens had left with them. Reho looked up at the moon through the porthole. It was now a crescent in the sky. If Ends’ plan worked—if Omega is destroyed—Earth would be free again. Free to do what? Rebuild civilizations like before? And unless he destroyed Jimmy, he would never know peace. And Rainne . . . Would she arrive at Omega before they did? And if she did, how could he blow it? How could he destroy her? The answer was obvious and Slater and Ends knew it: he wouldn’t.

Gibson worked on a jigsaw puzzle he had started two days before. The image was unfinished. Its frame wrapped an archaic castle in the top corner; a skull face protruded where the castle doors would be. Opposite the castle was a tall, green volcano with blue wintry mountains in the distance. A tropical scene unfolded below the volcano, as several mythical creatures raced toward a waterfall. In the center, two male characters fought. A Herculean man, reminding Reho of
Rocky
but with a shield and axe in his hands, fought what appeared to be death itself, equipped with a short sword. The rest was unfinished. Everything about the image told Reho that humankind, before the invasion, had no clue what laid ahead for them. Lost in fantasies and the hopes that nuclear warfare would never come.

“What have you been up to?” Gibson asked.

“Thinking, mostly. Slater said we won’t be able to send another communication to Shibuya for eighteen hours,” Reho said.

“If she’s there when we arrive . . . I’ll support you with Ends. I don’t know about Slater. He can’t see the present, only the end. Just like that death trap back at Sentosa.”

Reho sat next to Gibson and took out the journal he had taken from inside Arcade. He tossed it onto the table. Its marble cover drew Gibson’s attention.

“
The Incredible Journal of William III: Military Brat and Survivor of the Apocalypse, Year One
.” Gibson read the title aloud then looked away. “What is it?”

“It’s a journal from Arcade. I took it,” Reho said, “but it wasn’t on purpose. It was in my hands when the chemicals wore off; I woke with it in my jacket.”

Yeah, I know,” Gibson replied. He fitted another piece, then stood. “I’m going to get something to drink from the galley.”

Gibson left. This didn’t make sense.
He knew?

Reho grabbed the journal and followed Gibson.

Gibson uncorked a bottle of wine, then gave it a whiff.

“I should let it breathe,” he said, lifting it to the light.

He’s going to crack. He’s a danger to the plan.
Jimmy had returned.

Why?
Reho thought.

You don’t know?

“We can’t defeat them,” Gibson said, tilting the bottle and taking a long pull from it before slamming it onto the counter. “No plans or weapons or immersions. They don’t mean jack against them. We can’t win. We were never meant to.” Gibson swayed and dropped to the floor as his knees gave out. Tears streamed down his face and onto his Lakers Jersey.

Reho grabbed the wine bottle and plopped down next to Gibson. He took a long draw, then passed the bottle.

The beach. The dark bottle from the ocean. The wine bottle.
The dream he’d had more than a month ago while at the Traveler’s Rest Stop. The dream on the beach had been long forgotten until now. Part of the message inside had been indecipherable but the first word he had been able to read:
Kingdom
.

***

Reho left the conversation about invasion plans at the table and walked over near one of the portholes. Outside, the night sky was clear. Slater’s device flashed red and beeped twice.

“Stop,” Slater said. No one noticed what he’d said. “Stop!”

Everyone paused. Slater didn't say anything right away. He didn’t move and he didn’t look up from the communications monitor. Ends moved next to Slater and read the screen.

“It’s Reeves,” Ends said. “Kawasaki has destroyed most of their communication equipment, and if this message made it through, it would be the last.”

“What is Kawasaki trying to do?” Thursday asked.

“He’s been tracking our communications and our location. He knows where we’re going,” Gibson said.

“You’re right,” Slater said. “But that’s not it.”

“What?” Reho asked.

It’s her. They have her. She’s there. You’re going to really blow it? Kill her? Kill Rainne?
Jimmy’s sickening voice invaded Reho’s head.

“It’s Rainne,” Ends said. He looked across the room at him. “They have her.”

Reho walked to the monitor and read the report. At the bottom of the message, Reeves had sent an update on her transfer.

>>|Identification| //Rainne//0984239072<<

>>|Birth Date| 2064.34<<

>>|Birth Origin| //New.Afrika/Killa-jaro///<<

>>|Arrival to Omega| 2083.202<<

>>|Charges|<<

>>|Conviction Status|<<

>>|Current Status| Awaiting.Experimentation.YG83903<<

>>|Holding Cell| SW.34<<

“We’re going to get her out,” Ends said. Slater left the monitor and walked over to one of the other windows. He offered no comment.

Reho focused on one line from the message as the others talked around him, debating and deciding what needed to be done.
SW.34

“I’m going to get her out. Then I’ll immerse,” Reho said. Everyone stopped talking. It was Slater who said what all of them had already decided.

“No, you won’t,” Slater said. “You are the only one on this ship capable of immersing and initiating the reactor.”

“He’s right,” Ends said.

“That’s why we’re going to get her out,” Slater said. “That’s our mission now.” He looked around the room. No one protested or suggested anything different.

Ends looked at Gibson and Sola. “You will protect the ship and navigate us through Omega once we bypass their security. The weapons from Sentosa are designed to work inside Omega. I guess you can say we anticipated something like this might happen.”

“Three of you are going to break in and rescue Rainne,” Sola said. “And then come out alive?”

“We went in last time with seven guys and had every Hegemon in the place on us within ten minutes,” Ends replied. “That was the fault in our plan. Three can go in quietly, locate her with your help guiding us on Slater’s navigation band. Three is better than seven.”

“Three is better than seven?” Thursday repeated. “I think you’re the first military leader in history to say that. And there’s probably a good reason why.”

The navigation room
had been transformed into their headquarters. Their equipment had been brought in, along with tables and one of the reclining chairs from the captain’s cabin. The guns, armor, and tactical equipment lay waiting for Ends, Slater, and Thursday. The reclining chair had been transformed into a cockpit similar to the one Slater had back in Shibuya. The equipment had been set up beside it: a medical monitor, an IV, and a homemade injecting device to deliver the suppressor and waker. There would be no monitor, no one watching him as he moved through the Mainframe’s virtual landscape. Once immersed, he would be on his own with whatever existed there . . . and Jimmy.

Reho poured a cup of coffee and brought it to his lips. The scent brought back memories of the coffee he’d had in the Kingdom of Jaro. The boat rolled as the storm’s waves steadily increased. It would get a lot worse before it was over.

“Put it down,” Sola said as she came in carrying an armload of wires. “You immerse in two hours, and you’re going to drink coffee?”

Reho hadn’t thought it through, but she made a point. He took a sip anyway.

The navigation room door banged open as Thursday and Ends stumbled inside. The oversized container they hauled between them was labeled
Ionic Battery.

“Thanks,” Thursday said, lifting the cup from Reho’s hand. He drained half of the hot content and set it down on the counter.

“You know I like sugar in my coffee, honey,” Thursday said, his laughter rooted in nervousness rather than humor.

The shipped had been tossed about for the last twelve hours, but now the violent pitching was enough to send equipment sliding across the room.

“This ship is going to sink,” Sola said as she ran plastic wires through the equipment she and Gibson had been constructing for the last two days.

“No, she won’t,” Gibson said. “I think we have everything we need in here.”

“Not everything,” Slater said as he closed the door behind him.

Slater managed to pour two cups of coffee without spilling a drop and handed the other to Ends. No one spoke for several minutes.

This was it. The plans had been made. Everything that could be calculated had been figured. Now they were no longer one crew but three teams. Gibson had chosen Scared Hitless as his team name; he and Sola would be responsible for monitoring the storm and uploading navigation points as they tracked Ends, Slater, and Thursday, a.k.a. Black Hats. And then there was Reho, a one-man team. Two teams would be assisting a single immersant, but everything depended on his success. If Reho failed, then it didn’t matter what else happened.

Look at Sola. Can you trust her? You can see Cold-Blu dancing behind her eyes.
Jimmy’s words slithered through Reho’s mind.
And Ends. Can there be two leaders for this mission? Will Ends really die trying to find Rainne, or will he get out before it blows?
Reho grabbed his head and bent forward.

“Not a great time to wig out on us, Reho,” Thursday said, fixing himself another cup of coffee.

***

Reho felt the needle slip beneath his skin, tapping into a vein. The suppressor would work quickly.

“The codes worked! We’re connected!” Slater said, referring to the Phoenix satellite.

Combining Slater’s program with a booster device that Gibson had designed, they would use Phoenix to access the Mainframe by routing the signal from Reho’s external plug through the host server in Neopan. Both Gibson and Slater started into the monitor, marveling at their work. If Kawasaki tried to gain access to the satellite, Gibson hoped the firewall he’d spent the last two days constructing would buy them enough time for Reho to get in and out. Slater had told Reho he would wake in a room called the Safe. This room was part of a Black Hat program. Inside would be an arsenal of weapons that he could take with him. The program had a door that would take him directly into a virtual representation of the Mainframe.

Everyone gathered around Reho as he sat in the Cockpit. Ends, Slater, and Thursday were fully dressed in body armor and equipped for war: Blacks Hats against the entire alien compound.

“It’ll take us thirty minutes to reach the compound,” Slater said. “And then another fifteen inside if we expect to get out alive. Then another thirty back. That’s seventy-five minutes.” He looked at Reho. “I don’t know what you’ll face inside their Mainframe, but when you find the reactor room, don’t hesitate. Shut down the coolant systems, and get out of there. We can’t use the waking serum once you’re inside the Mainframe. In the Safe, you’ll find a small canister labeled
Drink Me
. Once consumed, you’ll wake immediately. ”

Reho nodded.

“We’ll find her,” Ends said. “When you shut down the coolant system, the alarm will go off, and we’ll hear it inside the compound.”

“I’m glad everyone is optimistic, because I’m freaked by this whole thing,” Thursday said, lighting a cigarette. “But I am eager to kill some little green aliens.”

“Are you ready?” Sola asked.

“Save Rainne before it blows. She must follow you out,” Reho said.

Ends nodded and stuck out his hand. They shook.

Sola pressed the plunger, and Reho watched as the translucent, green suppressor raced through the clear plastic tubing and into his veins. The icy chill in his veins was followed by a rush of fire. The crew around him swirled, their bodies distorted, until the blinding brightness swallowed them all.

***

Ends adjusted the strap on his vest as he waited for Thursday to join them. The water taxi was their only shot at making it to the coast. Ends had done the repairs and knew it wouldn’t be an issue. He packed the equipment necessary to secure the boat to something on the shore. The nuclear reactor had a three-mile blast radius, and if they wanted to live through the night, they would need the boat to make it back.

“All right, drop!” Ends said. Slater used the
drop line to lower himself into the boat. Thursday was next.

“I lied to you in Tzan,” Thursday said to Ends as he gripped the line and planted his feet on the edge of the boat.

“What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t get lost. I was with that girl I met in the club,’ Thursday said.

“This isn’t a time for confession, you lurker.”

“It’s not a confession. I just wanted to let you know that I got lucky that night and you didn’t!” Thursday dropped into the water taxi.

The fate of the world rested on them tonight, and Thursday had their rear. Despite the tense situation, Ends was glad to have him. They’d fought enough over the years, but he knew Thursday could handle himself. They were stronger because of him. And Slater? They had attempted this mission once before. They knew where they had failed. Tonight was a chance to right the wrongs of the past, to finish what they’d started decades ago.

***

Sola steadied herself as the ship heaved. The monitors showed violent waves crashing onto the lower decks. Gibson was hunkered over one of the monitors watching the progress of the storm.

“It’s going to get worse in the next hour and last for at least another two after that,” Gibson said.

Sola jabbed a key on Slater’s computer and watched as the ship’s blinking green dot moved closer to the coast.

Her thoughts turned to Ends. Seeing him equipped head-to-toe in his black tactical armor and oxygen suit reminded her of her first commission. After escaping from her previous employer in Chezlik, her brother dead and a death sentence on her head, Ends had taken her in as part of the original crew. They’d crossed New Afrika to an abandoned military bunker in the north.

She remembered seeing the desert for the first time, then the rush of soldiers. They’d fought for over an hour before taking out the last bunker guard. She’d seen Ends get hit six times without flinching. He was brave and strong in battle. It was then that she knew she would be safe with him. It was that night they’d first shown affection for each other under the desert stars.
Eleven years go.

“It’s going to be a long night,” Gibson said as he walked over to Reho. “It was meant to be him. Can’t you feel it?”

Sola looked at Reho but couldn’t see what Gibson saw. He was strong, but the mission was more than any one person could accomplish. She glanced at the radar. Blacks Hats had made it to the beach.

“He’s not alone,” she said. Another itch manifested itself along side her growing fear for everyone’s safety—one that she would soon have to scratch.

***

Reho blinked hard against the blinding light. He dug his fingers into his throbbing eyes, as if that would clear his wavering vision. Below him, a rancid, olive-green shag carpet stretched across the room to brown wood-paneled walls. He stood and looked around. The ceiling was low, with no more than twelve inches of clearance. There was a door to his left, and the wall behind was covered with racks of guns and equipment. A counter—every available inch of it covered with ammunition, armor, and bags—ran the length of the wall.

This is what Slater programmed. The Safe.

Reho noticed his clothing had changed. He now wore a black military uniform designed for tactical warfare, the same uniform Slater had given Ends and Thursday. Reho scanned the weapons and selected what he thought he would need. He’d had no preparation, no visual of what the inside would be like. Assuming he would be inside some sort of digital fortress, he left the heavier artillery alone.

A pair of black circular goggles sat atop a row of knives. A tag hung from them, connected by a string. It read:
Take me.
Reho snapped them around his neck. He looked at his AIM and saw only a scrambled screen, as it had been in Arcade. He found the small canister labeled
Drink Me
. He tucked it into one of the pockets on his vest.

As Reho moved toward the door, the floor squeaked and sank below him. He took a step back, wondering if the floor was about to cave.

He walked around the sunken spot and twisted the door handle. Intense bright light flooded the room. Reho was forced to shut his eyes. He strapped the goggles onto his face.

Reho opened his eyes to another world. There were two suns in the sky, one beside the other. One burned a bright orange, while the other burned crimson. The sky was cloudless and grey. Far in the distance, the sunlight reflected off something, but it was hidden behind the glare. And beyond that, rising like mountains, were five nuclear smokestacks belching steam into the air. The nuclear reactor would be somewhere in that vicinity.

Reho gripped the handle on his M16 and stepped out of the Safe and into the Mainframe.

On his back he’d strapped a tactical shotgun. Two Desert Eagles crossed his lower back above where he’d sheathed his knife. Two more Eagles were holstered to his thighs. A belt packed with clips ran around his waist, and a diagonal chest strap housed his shells. A string of grenades dangled from his vest. In the Safe, the equipment had been heavy but manageable. As he stepped outside, the weight was gone.

Reho’s second step sent him flying forward. It reminded him of being in the Emulator back in Shibuya. The ground was a rusty orange-brown, the topsoil loose like desert sand. Ahead of him, a dirt path wound its way toward structures in the distance. Reho could see light reflecting, as it had in Neopan. The structures were oddly shaped. From a distance, they looked as though they were slanted, built on the diagonal instead of vertical.

Reho walked, adjusting his steps and movement until his equilibrium adapted to the system’s physics. Nothing moved around him. The stillness and blankness of the area reminded him of the Blastlands. Reho increased his speed until he was sprinting. His breathing did not labor, nor did he feel any significant strain on his muscles. The icy wind cut through his hair and battered his face. He felt more alive than he had in his entire life.

He slowed to a walk as he approached the structures. An entire alien world resembling Neopan stood before him, built with alien materials and engineering. It was the city of lights and mirrors, the alien’s home world—or at least a virtual replica of it. And its system governed the nuclear reactor that powered Omega.

Reho entered the city. He could see no signs that anyone else was there. His AIM was still scrambled. As he approached the first intersection, a low rumble emerged, reminding him of the bass from the music back at the RT or the gasoline engine under the hood of a Humvee. The mirrored glass on the buildings shook around him. If they were to shatter, he would be buried in a sea of broken glass. The quaking increased.

Ahead, the earth suddenly broke open. A whale-sized creature emerged like a worm from the ground. Its head resembled that of a monstrous snake. It had no eyes, and its mouth encompassed most of its face. Massive shark-like teeth protruded from its mouth, making rows of odd shaped knives, each reflecting light from the buildings. Its skin was brown, dotted with spikes that Reho presumed were used to help it move quickly through the dirt.

He fired ninety rounds into the worm-like creature, forcing it back into the gaping hole. Reho rushed forward and tried the first door he came to.

It opened.

Inside was a lobby, spacious and undecorated. He wasn’t sure what function these buildings served or even why they existed. He hadn’t known what to expect, but he thought it would be different from this. He had no way of knowing where the reactor’s control room was located. Reho noticed something flashing on his AIM. Outside the screen had been scrambled; now inside, it displayed a map. If he was going to find a way to the reactor, it would be from inside here or at least one of the buildings.